


Complimentary Close

by crocs



Series: Not Just Snail Mail [2]
Category: Cloak & Dagger (TV 2018), Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15657177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocs/pseuds/crocs
Summary: Luke writes back.(Sequel toFaithfully or Sincerely.)





	Complimentary Close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeartOnATrigger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOnATrigger/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
> 
> Inspired by HeartOnATrigger's comment on _Faithfully or Sincerely_ , who said they'd love to see Luke write back, and I immediately said _yes_ to myself and got writing.

"Special delivery. Heads up."

Tyrone caught the thick, USPS brown envelope one handed and looked up to see Tandy, arm extended, with a raised eyebrow. "Have you been going through my mail?"

She walked the short distance to stand next to him and flopped down on top of Tyrone's empty sleeping bag. Even falling, Tyrone could see the ballet lessons in her posture. "No," she said, adjusting her position so she was more comfortable. "We set up a P.O. box when you wrote to Luke Cage, remember?"

"Uh, yeah. Under your name. So how could you know it's for me?" Tyrone crossed his arms. _Gotcha._

 _"_ Look who it's addressed to," she replied in the same tone.

Tyrone flipped the beige envelope over. It was heavy. Under his hand, he could feel the bubble wrap inside. He ran his fingers along the name carved out in blue ballpoint pen. _Cloak._ He froze.

"Tyrone? You okay?" asked Tandy.

"Yeah," he responded, thickly. "Just fine."

Flipping over the envelope, Tyrone ran his fingers along the sealed side and ripped it open. The insides tumbled out onto the dusty church floor.

On Tyrone's left lay another envelope, thin enough to only contain a letter. It had no address on it this time, only the same single word that was written on the front of the package. Silvery gray, the envelope was almost inconspicuous — but the parts of it that caught the light were bright enough to blind.

Looking to his left, Tyrone saw a plastic bag. It had a pink post-it note stuck on top, managing to keep the bag sealed. With every small breath of wind that came through the window, the bag moved a small amount; as he was choosing which to open first, Tandy took off her boot and put it on top of the bag, anchoring it.

He reached for the letter and slid two fingers down the adhesive, opening it. Taking out the letter, Tyrone began to read.

 _'Dear Cloak,'_ it started.

_'Thank you for your letter. I want you to know that I read each and every one that gets through to me, and I try to reply to as many as I can. Your's — I didn't even think about not replying._

_'On the subject of Officer Fuchs, would that be the boyfriend of a Det. Brigid O'Reilly? A good friend of mine is worried about her. If so or if not, it is completely unfair that you've been treated this way. Sweet Christmas, it's the kind of thing that I fight against here in NY._

_'Now onto the bulk of your letter:_

_'While it's true that with great power comes great responsibility, it's also true that fighting for others can be a toll. You have to think about what you're doing before you do it. You probably know from your Ethics class that this is a sort of_ not as I do _situation, and you'd be right. I've been labelled as stubborn in the past, even to the point of tears._

_'What I'm trying to say is that there is no set way to being a hero. (I wouldn't even call myself one, though others have done so.) As frightening as it sounds, you'll face a whole lot of problems on the way. Most of them you can fix yourself, but for others it's good to have a support system like you already have with your friends. It took me a while to find that, and I'm glad that you do._

_'If I_ am _ever in NOLA, I'll make sure to stop by._

_'Good luck, Cloak._

_'Luke Cage'._

Hands shaking, Tyrone carefully folded the letter and put it in his inside jacket pocket, right next to Billy's. He blinked and breathed out and in slowly.

"So?" asked Tandy. "What did Cage say?"

Tyrone nodded. "Well, he got my letter," he said, smiling now. "Also, if he ever shows up here, we're his tour guides. Along with Evita."

"…Fair enough." She removed her boot from the bag and chucked the item at Tyrone, pulling her shoe back on.

"Hey!"

"What?"

He lifted up the bag. "This could be fragile."

"Hmm. Tyrone, I spent the last five-ish years of my life grifting and conning my way through life. I think I can tell when something's fragile."

"Is that because of the shattering noise?" he muttered, then said louder, "Wasn't there a post-it note on this?"

Tandy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it was some bull about needing to shift merchandise."

Intrigued, Tyrone opened the bag and lifted up what was inside for her to see.

It was a soft green hoodie, the kind of color that was reserved for dark forests and the Hulk at night. On the back, the side facing him, were the words _SWEET X-MAS_ screen printed in the brightest yellow ever invented. He flipped it around so that Tandy could see the back. She began to cough and laugh at the same time.

He threw it at her.

Tandy sobered. "Wait — don't you want this?"

"I kinda sorta stole your hoodie, remember?"

"I _kinda sorta_ stole it from you first."

Tyrone grimaced. "Okay," he admitted, "the only reason why I'm not gonna wear that is because it's a Small, and I take a Medium."

"Maybe you could write to him again complaining," she said, starting to pull the hoodie on.

Tyrone snorted. "Yeah, no," he said, "what would I write? ' _Dear Mr. Cage, sorry for bothering you again, please could you send a hoodie in a different size'_?"

Her response was muffled by the hoodie.

"What?"

Tandy's head poked out from the top. "I _said_ , you really respect this guy, huh."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Alright." She stood up. "How do I look?"

Tyrone tilted his head. "Strike a pose?"

Tandy immediately assumed one of her defensive Dagger positions, the weapons jutting out from her grip in only a few seconds. It was like someone flipped a switch. Gone was the relaxed, stretched out teenager. Instead, all that remained was a statue, a sculpture of some badass Greek War Goddess about to skewer or smite some masses.

Albeit one trying not to laugh and also wearing Hero of Harlem merchandise.

Tyrone clapped and gave a small wolf-whistle. Tandy put her Daggers away and twirled, Tyrone whooping harder. Finally, she collapsed back on the floor, the hood askew on her new hoodie.

"So, if he did come to New Orleans, where would you take him?"

Tyrone grinned. "Well, I'd start with the 616 ROXXON compound…"

"Solid choice."

"… and then maybe, the church…"

* * *

 


End file.
